


Daughter of Two Clowns

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:38:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2463644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Daughter of Two Clowns

Silence surrounded her in the safehouse she was located in. Darkness was becoming her best friend as the minutes passed further into the night as she drew her knees closer to her chest, sitting by the window, the moon lingering outside, illuminating the dark Gotham night sky. Glancing through the dirty pane of glass, she was humming a lullaby, possibly one of the ones her mother had always sang to her when she was younger, even through the crowded noise of the Asylum. The asylum had become her home, though her escapes from the building that Rebecca had referred to as Hell itself. Drumming her white fingers along the window frame, she squinted her eyes. What was that up in the sky? Right, that jogged her memory. The Bat signal. Oh, how she was the complete opposite of everything that was good and perfect in the city. After all, how could she be anything but from the wrong side of the tracks? She was the daughter of The Joker and Harleen Quinzel. There was nothing sweet about her.  
Oh, how the young clown loved being alone. It was better than hanging around and about the inmates of the jail. Then again, she had come to become close to certain inmates in the place, so close that sometimes she would make an escape right in front of a few of them on many occasions. Tilting her head slightly, she slowly stood up, her milky white skin being exposed to the bright moonlight as she moved away from the window. She’d be sent right back to Arkham if the Bat spotted her. After all, it wasn’t exactly hard to spot the beauty. With bright green hair, insane asylum wall white skin, and two different colored eyes; one bright blue, the other bright green. Everyone always thought that they were contacts, then again, since she was the daughter of the Joker, some of that chemical that had infected him all those years ago, had to go somewhere. 

“You know, you’re never that good at hiding, Bec” She stated. Of course she’d be the one to talk to herself. What? She couldn’t exactly help it, considering her many mental issues and being alone for most of her life. It just became a habit to the young girl as she grew up in and out of the place where she was born and raised. Blinking, she groaned. Her father’s loud and demanding voice echoed through the walls of her mind as she put her hands over her ears. Somehow, her parent’s always did end up having some sort of input on her years of growing up, not that they ever really cared. Okay, that wasn’t true about her mother, Harley. She could sense that her mother did always care. But her father? He was fifty shades of crazy. He never cared about her for a minute, or maybe even a second. No, she never expected to see from him or ever, not like she expected such a high standard of caring from the Clown Prince of Crime himself. In the end, she’d be forgotten by her parents, and maybe in the end, everyone. She wasn’t special, she was just the freak offspring of two psychopathic and sociopathic clowns who had a complicated relationship, and that was putting it lightly.

Exiting her dark room, she puffed out her cheeks. If only she had her “Aunt” around, or maybe even Eddie. At least she’d have some sort of entertainment then, even if it came in the forms of endless riddles and snide comments for hours on end. It was better than nothing, right? Drumming her fingers against her leg as she paced around the safe house, she glanced around. Was there something there in the shadows? There easily could have been, considering the city was full of shifty characters and those who she knew not to associate herself with. Then again, she never really listened to her own rules. Rebecca was a rule breaker and everyone in town knew that, even the Bat himself. She was a force to be reckoned with when under the right circumstances.

Her fingers grazed against her doll, which she named “Doll”. Not that amazing of a name, right? Well, it was her most prized possession, considering it was the only thing she had left from her childhood and the only thing she was allowed to keep in Arkham. Sitting down, she brought her doll to her chest as she leaned back against the wall. Echoing in her mind, she heard a therapist speak to another. Yeah, voices in her head, she was beyond screwed up.

“Rebecca suffers from many psychological ailments including Schizophrenia, Bi-polarism, Visual and Auditory hallucinations. She also suffers from a type of cogenital analgesia. In her case, she has an indifference to pain, which means that she can perceive the stimulus, but lacks an appropriate response: she will not flinch or withdraw when exposed to pain”

Swearing she could hear those voices in her head, she put her hands over her ears, clutching Doll with one hand, hoping the voices would go away soon. She needed them to, the voices weren’t exactly helping out in any degree when it came to her sanity. Soon enough, the voices died down as she pushed herself away from the wall. Of course Rebecca knew that they’d be back, they always did. It didn’t matter If she filled herself up with enough medication, or any sort of drug, she’d hear the voices of those who taunted her even when they knew what she was capable of and what she could do with learning things off the streets every time she left that place. Rubbing at her neck, Becca let out a long sigh as she looked towards the ground, closing her eyes for a few moments, attempting to push herself back into the quietness from the safe room.

Glancing out another window in the safe house, she groaned as the moon reflected against the glass, which bounded into the room once again. “Becca, you really need to get everything under control and get everything to work. Can you manage that, huh girl?” Drawing her fingers against her dress, the pale fingers glided against the dirty material of the clothes she was currently wearing. One would expect her to be still lounging her in her Arkham uniform, but she discarded that rather fast. Dressed up in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, which was more freeing and didn’t scream crazy when spotted outside the facility.”Oh yeah, Becca. Moms and Pops would be so proud. Well, they might, seeing as they’re just as crazy as you are” Mumbling to herself, she bit on her lower lip as she hoisted herself by a highly placed window. To be honest, nothing was ever out of reach for the young girl. Money, jewels, clothing. She could have everything she ever wanted, but at the same time, she had nothing. Only the clothes on her back,a few blades and nothing else. If anyone asked her, she was content with what she had on her person at all times, nothing more, nothing else.

Hearing a cat screech from outside, she quirked a brow. Well, that was normal. At least around here it was. Noises never made her flinch or even start to worry. When trouble would come her way, she had it under control, for the most part. Seeing that she was never affected my pain or anything like it, she had a few select bruises, which mostly came from the other inmates, or even herself. Those who messed her didn’t exactly talk about it afterwards. Whether if it was a knife or exploding marbles, she’d get the job done and done quickly. Running her fingers against the wood of the railing, she found herself smiling. Whenever she found herself harming those who started it, she’d finish the job. Just like her Father in every way when it came to the chaos and destruction. Glancing up at the moon once more, she found herself giggling. Again, just like her father, finding the joy and finding something funny, even though there was nothing there to laugh at. Okay, that wasn’t true, she could have easily been laughing as she heard a man below on the streets getting attacked, profanities flying everywhere as the meeting went south, but if you asked her what she was laughing at? It’d be the moon and how perfect it was. Yeah, the kid could lie, and get away with it. No one ever thought that she’d be the same way as her father in a few regards. Sick, twisted and demented as she felt her laugh grow louder as she heard the man’s little meeting below end permanently. Oh, how she really was her father’s daughter. Maybe one day, Rebecca Pamela Quinn would really end up just like her loving parents, that’d be a twist.


End file.
